


Bound

by theweakestthing



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rope binds Yata Misaki's naked body and Fushimi Saruhiko mercilessly embarrasses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

Yata struggled against the ropes that bound his body, he clenched his hands tied above his head. The rope twisted around his torso, cradled his groin, delved into the crease between his buttocks and joined together at the small of his back. His right leg was high in the air, tied just above the knee, spreading him wide and making the rope touch him indecently. The only part of Yata touching the floor was the ball of his left foot and his toes, he couldn't gain enough purchase to do much of anything. His struggling only caused the rope to rub against him obscenely, causing a blush to dust his cheeks. Yata blinked at the darkness behind the blindfold, biting his lip from embarrassment. 

"Mi-sa-ki," the syllables crawled up his throat, slipped into his ear and made him dizzy. Nails caught the skin at his hip, dug into the flesh causing Yata to give out a sharp gasp. "Tsk, this isn't as fun as I thought it would be," Fushimi said dejected, Yata wanted to kick him in face. The blindfold was ripped away and the other's face came into view, smiling that devilish smile. "Much better," voice twisting like smoke in the air, suffocating Yata as his face contorted in humiliation. He struggled futilely to hide and settled on adverting his eyes.

"Y-you promised you'd leave it on this time," Yata bristled, unable to summon his usual rage and intimidating persona in such a situation. Slender fingers gripped his chin and brought their eyes together.

"I just can't help myself, not when you make faces like that, Misaki," Fushimi was drunk on the sight of Yata, his little fire demon embarrassed, practically mortified, by a bit nudity and rope; innocence practically rolling off of him. Just the way he liked him, if only those eyes would stay on him. 

"Pervert," Yata pouted looking off to the side, the grip on his chin tightened and he hissed in pain.

"Takes one to know one," Fushimi sing-songed finger curling around Yata's semi-hard erection, Yata scrunched his face up and groaned lowly. "You don't have to pretend that you're not enjoying this, Misaki," Fushimi stared deep into those stunning amber eyes and stroked Yata languidly. "It's only you and me here, in our small world," he tipped Yata's chin and pressed their lips together softly.

The kiss felt obscene to Yata, the way breath ghosted across his lips and into his mouth, how the friction against his lips and erection was pulling him under the waves of desire. If he had been able to, he would have moved away and spat at the other, but here, like this, all he could do was blush fiercely and be swept away. 

Fushimi stepped closer cupping Yata's face in his hands, deepening the kiss. Noses rubbed, lips crashed, teeth clashed and tongues swiped. Saliva slipped out from Yata's mouth as their erections rubbed, he gave out a small cry. 

Hands left his face, fingers glided like feathers over his elevated thigh making the muscles there twitch and a mewl escaped his lips, hungrily consumed by the mouth over his. The other hand reached behind Yata and tugged on the rope lightly, causing it to rub against Yata in all those sinful places. He jerked his head away from Fushimi's mouth as the other continued to gently pull the rope, stuttering out moans. 

Yata's eyes were caged by the look in Fushimi's, something more than want and desire, something that he was far too affected to name. His face twisting in pleasure that he was no longer able to hide, he felt like he was one of those butterflies pinned to a board and studied under a magnifying glass. 

Those eyes never left his as Fushimi knelt in front of him, fingers caressing him for the second time. He almost came at the sight of Fushimi opening his mouth wide to consume Yata, the sheer debauchery made his entire body flush. He watched himself disappear inside that traitorous mouth, the sensation thrummed through him, drawing his mouth agape with a silent moan. 

With Yata distracted, Fushimi reached blindly for the bottle of lotion that he had near. He coated his fingers and smirked around Yata, excited to see the smaller one's reaction. He pushed the rope aside at Yata's entrance and caressed the puckered skin. The boy above him jolted, swaying, and released a strangled cry. His wet finger pressed inside, opening the other.

Yata wanted to move away, wanted to look away from that gaze, but he was caught, imprisoned. He began to pant and whine as the finger slickly moved in and out of him, gasped as another was added. Everything outside of the sensation and those eyes escaped him, swept away by the clawing waves of pleasure. The fingers spread inside him, at this point Yata always felt like he was on a landslide. With Fushimi, he was always fighting a losing battle, unaware that he had been fighting half-heartedly. He felt submissive and weak when the third finger slid inside, he fought against the electric shock of pleasure when those fingers rubbed further inside him. 

"I-I'm gonna...Saru," Yata whined curling his toes. Fushimi left him then, even those eyes and Yata felt lonely and rejected, he hated himself for it too. He made a pitiful noise and tired to keep in his mouth to no avail.

"Is there something you want, Mi-sa-ki?" Fushimi said voice sultry making Yata's erection twitch, he closed his eyes. He pressed his lips into a firm line, clenching his restrained fists. He shook his head, determined not to do this, it was the worst part. "Are you sure?" Yata could feel Fushimi's hot breath on the shell of his ear, he gasped and snapped his head in the direction of the husky tone. He found Fushimi's face hardly an inch away from his, he sputtered silently, eyes going wide. "If there's anything you need, all you have to do is ask," predatory eyes caged his wild wide ones. "Mi," Yata's pupils expanded, "sa," his heart raced, "ki," a beast rose within him, something he had tried to keep chained down, it demanded to be fed.

"Please," his voice came out higher than he expected, but he was past caring now. Silence bore down upon him. 

"Please what?" Fushimi pushed, knowing that he had Yata wrapped around his finger at that point.

"Please," Yata whined, "I-I want," he panted, trying to force the offending words out. "I want you...inside," he bit his lip, nervous.

Yata moaned wantonly when Fushimi pressed against his entrance, head rubbing along the puckered muscle. Fushimi pushed in agonisingly slow for the both of them, Yata screwed his face up as Fushimi gritted his teeth. 

"Misaki," Fushimi said tightly, now fully sheathed inside Yata. Fushimi crushed their mouths together in a feral merciless kiss, as he began to pull out of Yata to the tip. He brought his mouth to the column of Yata's neck when he thrust back inside, wanting to hear the feverous moan the other released. He bit and nipped around Yata's chest and collarbone, marking the boy as his.

The rhythm was too fast and too rough for Yata, his head just couldn't keep up. He lost himself moaning loudly, letting Fushimi do whatever he wanted. The rope chaffing him, now drenched in sweat as Yata's body began to glisten. 

Fushimi gripped Yata's neglected erection in a severe grip, Yata choked and sobbed as Fushimi stroked him at an almost painful pace. His voice cracked as his orgasm pulsed through him, he mumbled deliriously through the aftershocks whilst Fushimi's hips were still rutting against him. 

Fushimi sunk his teeth into the HOMRA mark on Yata's collarbone and gripped the ginger's right thigh violently as he came inside the small boy, drawing blood from both places. 

After catching his breath, Fushimi stepped back and admired his handy work, very much pleased with himself. Yata was covered in sweat, hands were slumped limply above him, his hair stuck to his forehead and sticking out at odd angles, his eyes wet, his cheeks a deep shade of red, his lips bruised and slick, his neck and chest covered in angry red marks, the inside of his right thigh and the left side of his collarbone raw and smeared with dried blood, his hips bruised from Fushimi's fierce grip, his cute small penis flaccid and dripping, Fushimi own cum dripping from him and rolling down the inside of his left leg. Yata was still trying to catch his breath, chest heaving, mouth slightly open as he panted. 

"I think Misaki looks his mostly beautiful like this," Fushimi sighed longingly, "just for me."


End file.
